


Comfy and Cozy Are We

by mypoorfaves



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Common Cold, Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Sick Yuuri, Sickfic, cuteness, victor and yuuri have matching flannel pj's because they are gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 10:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mypoorfaves/pseuds/mypoorfaves
Summary: Of all of the times for Yuuri to catch a cold, it just had to be Christmas.





	Comfy and Cozy Are We

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following prompt: A character getting sick with a cold a couple days before Christmas, and their partner puts a bunch of travel sized tissue packs in their stocking
> 
> Some cultural context, here where I live in the west, we fill our stockings with candy and chocolate and also smaller gifts. We go through them before unwrapping the rest of the presents underneath the tree. And on Christmas eve, we get new pajamas. I don't know if that's the same everywhere so yea.
> 
> Ps I mention a fireplace but since Victor and Yuuri live in an apartment (at least in my hc and in this fic), said fireplace is electronic.
> 
> And now with that out of the way, please enjoy :)

“Your turn now, Yuuri! Open it! Open it!” Victor says, practically shoving the overflowing stocking into Yuuri's hands. Yuuri's eyes widen as he fumbles to catch it, some loose candy canes and chocolates spilling out over the top despite his best efforts.

Victor offers him an apologetic smile, and Yuuri returns his own, sweet and shy. “I told you I don't need so much stuff…”

“I live to spoil you,” Victor says unashamedly. Such a reply might as well be second nature at this point. “Especially when you're not feeling well,” he adds.

Yuuri shyly ducks his head. “Just a cold.” He quickly busies himself with emptying the stocking, as if to try and change the subject. Victor can still see a blush dusting his cheeks, though maybe it's from his fever rather than embarrassment.

Of all of the times for Yuuri to catch a cold, it just had to be Christmas. It started a couple of days ago with only a sore throat and a lingering cough, but the illness eventually caught up with him, leaving him with a frankly adorable reddened nose that, quoting Yuuri’s complaints, can't seem to make up its mind whether it's runny or stuffed up.

Right now it has chosen the former, Yuuri giving a wet sniffle and quickly running the sleeve of his pajamas under his nose. The action is so slight and causal, but it's a show of vulnerability, and Victor's heart clenches at the thought that Yuuri has grown so comfortable around him to show such weakness. Seeing Yuuri like this, his more private and personal side, is a privilege that Victor does not take for granted, even after all this time.

He watches fondly as Yuuri goes through his gifts. His dark hair is a mess under the Christmas hat on his head, and Victor is certain Yuuri is only wearing it to avoid dealing with the fact. It’s unbearably cute, and the crimson colour matches the flush on Yuuri's cheeks almost perfectly. His new pajamas are keeping any chills at bay: a navy blue plaid-covered flannel, complimenting Victor's which are a light purple. The set is a small homage to the program that brought them together, that lead to this very moment, to a calm and quiet Christmas in St. Petersburg.

Snow is making its slow descent outside the window. Inside, it's warm and cozy, with the gentle glow of the Christmas tree and the fireplace lighting up Yuuri’s face. A small pile of gifts has already begun to form around him, and he still has lots left to go too. Yuuri's hand is in the bag, his tongue poking out in concentration as he blindly grasps for his next item. A grin breaks out on his face when his fingers wrap around it, and when he finally pulls it out he makes a happy noise. “Socks! Thank you, Victor, I needed these!”

“Of course!” Victor says. “I noticed the holes in your other ones when I was doing laundry.”

Yuuri clutches the bundle close to his chest, as if to try and contain the emotions in his heart. The look of pure love and adoration he fixes Victor with makes his own heart melt. “I would kiss you, but I don't want you to get sick.”

“I already told you, solnyshko, I don't mind.”

“Yes, but _I_ do.”

Victor hums in thought. “A compromise then: kiss on the cheek?”

“Deal,” Yuuri agrees, leaning forward to deliver. The light press of his lips on Victor's skin lingers even after he pulls away.

With a sniffle and a few coughs, Yuuri adds the socks to the growing pile and reaches back into the bag.

“Hmm? What is…?” His face scrunches up curiously, and Victor catches the slight flex of Yuuri’s muscles as he gives the item an experimental squeeze. When he gets a proper look at what he's holding, he shoots Victor a glance of disapproval. “Exactly what I wanted,” Yuuri says in a flat tone. “How did you know?”

“I didn't mean to tease,” Victor tries to placate Yuuri as he tosses the travel pack of tissues aside. “I just figured you could use them.”

With another quiet sniffle, Yuuri wipes his nose with his sleeve. Compared to the previous times he's done it, it somehow seems more shy. “I appreciate the thought,” he says after a moment. “Thank you.”

The next item Yuuri retrieves from the stocking is a pack of flu masks, which he sets aside with no comment and a huff of air that says more than words could. Victor knows him well enough to know he's not seriously annoyed, only playfully. Seeing the corner of his lips twitch upwards in a small smile helps too.

That smile grows into an amused grin when Yuuri sees his next gift. “More tissues?” he laughs, which causes him to cough, but he's still smiling afterwards. He puts the new packs with the others. “Just how many of these did you buy?”

“I didn't buy _that_ many…” Victor says, choosing not to mention the extras he has stored in his bag. For emergencies. “Besides, they were a good deal!”

“I'm sure they were.”

Some pens, a notepad, a key chain with a skate guard, a toothbrush, skate laces, lip balm… That's just the start of the list, and this is only Yuuri's stocking; they have yet to unwrap the presents under the tree. Victor wasn't kidding when he said he lives to spoil his Yuuri. Russians may not typically celebrate Christmas, but Victor will never pass up an opportunity to celebrate his fiance.

Yuuri's ring gleams in the low light as he examines the gift in his hands. “Tea candles?”

“I figured a nice bath with some candles would help you relax and unwind after a long day at practice.” Victor explains. “I know it's nothing like the hot springs back home, but I thought you might like them.”

“This is my favourite scent,” Yuuri says softly, almost to himself.

“I know. Vanilla lavender. Good for your anxiety, right?”

Yuuri nods. “Thank you, Victor.”

It's just three simple words, but Victor can hear the immense gratitude in them, can see it in the open tenderness taking over Yuuri’s expression, in the way his fingers run almost reverently over the packaging.

“You know, they have hot springs here in Russia too!” Victor informs him. “They're quite different, but we could try going to one sometime if you like.”

Yuuri hums his agreement. Still holding the candles, he brings them to his nose to breathe in the scent.

Not half a second later, he tosses the candles aside and frantically searches through the pile of gifts. Victor is just about to ask what's wrong when Yuuri's breathing hitches with an impending sneeze. The scented candles must have set him off. Yuuri's nose normally isn't very sensitive, but that changes when he gets a cold.

Yuuri locates one of the travel packs and tears it open, just in time to catch a muffled _hpt’shiu!_ into the tissue. Victor waits until Yuuri sneezes again, then offers a sympathetic “bless you.”

“Looks like I was right,” Victor says when Yuuri sneezes a third time. “You did need them after all!”

Yuuri glares at Victor over the tissue still held over his face and mutters something in Japanese that sounds an awful lot like “your fault.”

He blows his nose, gives a few coughs, and rubs at his throat with a wince. Victor holds out an open hand to take the used tissue, and Yuuri hands it over with a weary sigh. His shoulders are slumped forward, his nose is red and irritated, heavy bags paint dark smudges underneath his eyes. He looks so sick and so tired and so _precious_ that Victor just wants to wrap him up and protect him from the world.

Smiling to himself, Victor stands up. “Be right back,” he says. With a kiss to Yuuri's head, he departs for the kitchen.

After disposing of the the trash, Victor pulls a mug from the cupboard and fills the kettle with some water. While he waits for it to boil, he searches for the leaves and honey. By the time he finds it, the water has finished boiling. Victor adds the ingredients in the mug, lets it sit for a minute, then heads back to the living room.

The ears of his fluffy poodle slippers flop against his feet with each stepーyet another matching article he and Yuuri share. When Victor saw the slippers in the store, he just _had_ to buy them. They reminded him of his own poodle, and the material feels just as soft as her curly brown fur does.

Makkachin has also been enjoying this special day, and has been making use of her new doggie bed, where she lays curled up fast asleep in front of the fireplace. She's still snoozing when Victor enters the room, and Yuuri brightens when he notices the mug he's carrying. “I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

“Your throat seemed to be bothering you, so I made you some tea. It's ginger, with honey.”

Yuuri accepts the offered mug with a _“spasibo, Vitya,”_ and a smile that makes Victor's heart feel as if it's been wrapped in a blanket fresh from the dryer.

Yuuri releases a sigh of content as he takes a sip of his tea. “Good?” Victor asks, and gets a hum and a nod in response. He sits down on the floor next to him, and Yuuri takes the opportunity to lean his head on Victor's shoulder. Victor instinctively slips an arm around Yuuri’s back. With his Christmas hat on, Victor can't run his fingers through Yuuri’s hair like he usually would, so instead he settles for stroking his arm. The effect it has is the same, Yuuri melting against him and looking ready to fall asleep within minutes.

Victor takes the mug from Yuuri's hands before it has the chance to spill on the carpet and places it on top of the coffee table. “Let's move to the couch,” Victor murmurs. “I think you could use a nap.” He presses a kiss to Yuuri's temple, letting the touch linger half because he wants to, and half to check Yuuri's temperature. The skin under his lips is warm, likely still feverish.

“We still have to open the rest of the presents,” Yuuri mumbles, though he makes no move to get up and do so.

“You've opened enough for now,” Victor says. “The rest can wait, until after _you_ get some rest.” He smiles to himself at his clever little play on words.

“But what about _your_ Christmas presents?” Yuuri sleepily protests. “And your birthday presents too…”

Victor had practically forgotten it was his birthday. Though honestly he can't think of a better way to spend the day celebrating his coming into the world than by being with the person who brought colour into his.

“Later,” Victor says. “Besides, I have everything I could ever want right here in my arms.”

He doesn't have to look to know Yuuri is blushing. It's evident in the way he presses his face against Victor's shoulder. Or maybe he's just getting more comfortable. “Come on. Couch,” Victor urges, and coaxes a very heavy-limbed Yuuri to his feet.

Victor takes the fleece throw blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over both of them. It's unbelievably soft, though that's not what is keeping Victor warm. Yuuri has melted again, this time laying on top of him. Victor slips Yuuri's glasses from his face, and on a whim, he takes the hat off of his head too. Yuuri grumbles a complaint, but stops the instant Victor's hand begins to weave through his hair. It doesn't take long after that for his breaths to even out.

Victor watches the slow and relaxed rise and fall of his fiance’s chest. His fingers keep carding through Yuuri’s hair, even though he's fast asleep; Victor would feel guilty if he stopped. The action is soothing, enough to begin to lull Victor to sleep, too. His eyelids grow heavy, and he lets them slip shut, unable to find a reason to keep them open any longer.

He falls asleep with a smile on his lips. Outside the window, the snow continues its slow descent.

**Author's Note:**

> These linked photos are basically what I imagined for [Yuuri's pajamas](https://www.google.ca/search?tbm=isch&source=hp&ei=iLkfXMCBJ_Wt0PEPn96kyAw&q=navy+blue+flannel+pajama+set+plaid&oq=&gs_l=mobile-gws-wiz-img.1.0.35i39l5.0.0..2639...1.0..0.0.0.......0...........5.mdyMrtoWtm4#imgrc=U6eHQpvmaTknOM) (ignore that it says for toddlers lol), [Victor's pajamas](https://www.google.ca/search?q=purple+flannel+pajama+set+plaid&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwiIw6rktLbfAhUjAzQIHT4JB20Q2-cCegQIABAC&oq=pirple+flannel+pajama+set+plaid&gs_l=mobile-gws-wiz-img.1.0.30i10.1773.3989..5360...2.0..0.122.689.7j1......0....1.........0i8i30.g8CzgspA9kk&ei=ML0fXIjrE6OG0PEPvpKc6AY#imgrc=iqR0mgq4RVaw0M), and the [poodle slippers](https://www.bunnyslippers.com/shop/Bichon-Frise-Slippers.html) (except they'd be brown. And poodle instead of bichon frise.)
> 
> The bit about the fluffy poodle slippers floppy ears was inspired by the bangs on the Victor slippers i have hahaha fwish fwish c:
> 
> Disclaimer I have no idea if vanilla lavender is actually good for anxiety I just think Yuuri would like that particular scent and wanted to include that
> 
> There are in fact hot springs in Russia. Though as mentioned it's not quite the same as in Japan
> 
> Thank you for reading! Have a merry Vic-mas!


End file.
